


Molten

by WeldersMightyB (TFWDuke)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, Wingfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-24
Updated: 2019-09-24
Packaged: 2020-10-27 05:14:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20754920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TFWDuke/pseuds/WeldersMightyB
Summary: Why can’t Sammy just cut it out for, like, two days? I slept wrong, my shoulders hurt, and I’m still trying to figure out what it means to be a demon. Of course, I don’t really feel up to a hunt right now. And Cas is telling me that wings are real and need to be groomed?! For the Love of Zepellin, I’m a straight man who just needs my best friend to get naked with me. And keep his damn mouth shut while he straddles- kneels over me! Who taught him to be flirty and sarcastic? Is this all just too much to ask? I’m starting to think so, but here’s the thing:I think I kinda like it.-SignedYour Confused Local Demon,Dean Winchester





	Molten

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is part of the CasDean FlipFest 2019. I want to thank my wonderful artist, [Synk-Art](https://www.tumblr.com/dashboard/blog/synk-art), for their beautiful pieces for this fic. They have been such a wonderful support for this fic and their art just perfectly captures the essence of what I was trying to convey. A special thanks as well to the mod team, as they were so incredibly helpful throughout the whole Fest.

“So get this.” Such a simple phrase, nothing really out of the ordinary for a day in the life of the Winchester brothers. But for some reason he couldn’t explain, it set Dean off this morning. He set his coffee mug down a bit too harshly on the counter, causing the precious liquid to slosh onto the counter. Dean registered the look of shock in Sam’s eyes as he faced his little brother. 

“What now, Sammy?” Dean tried to reign in the irritation in his voice, but it was damn hard this early in the morning. If it weren’t for the hunter’s intimate relationship with insomnia, Dean would still be wrapped in his comforter, sunk deep down into his memory foam. “Who do we have to save now?” 

Sam looked taken aback at Dean’s harshness, and the elder brother really tried to feel apologetic, but the emotion just wouldn’t come. “What’s the matter, Dean?” Sam looked concerned for Dean, which of course just set Dean’s temper off further.

“Nothing! Can’t I just have one day where I don’t feel like saving everyone else’s ass?” Dean sighed and rolled his shoulders, trying to dispel the tension between them. He caught the look Sam was throwing his way. “Don’t you dare go there, Sammy. This has nothing to do with me being a demon. I just want a day off.” Dean stared his brother down, willing him to just get the hint. He felt himself relax just a tad when Sam threw his hands up in surrender.

“Letting it go. I get it.” Sam closed his laptop and stood, tossing the computer under his arm. “You may not care, but I do. I’m gonna investigate this.” He didn’t give Dean a chance to respond before heading out to the garage. Dean shouted after him, rolling his shoulders again as the tension there began to return.

“Call Garth and have him send someone with you!” He hated getting into it with Sam. He really did. He wanted to feel bad about it, say he was sorry, go hunting. But honestly? Dean Winchester was a tired black-eyed bastard and he just needed a break.

Ever since Dean had come back home after awakening as a demon, Sam had seemed on edge. Dean didn’t exactly blame him, he knew he would have felt the same if the tables had been reversed. Hell, he wasn’t sure he would have been able to let Sammy out of the dungeon. When the spell hadn’t worked, Dean had been sure Sam was going to leave him there to rot. But when Sam and Cas had taken a moment to assess their next plan of attack, the three had all come to the conclusion that the spell had not been completely fruitless after all. 

While Dean still remained a demon (though Cas had mentioned that he wondered if Dean might now constitute as “other”), his soul had become significantly less tainted in the process. He cared about those around him again, and he no longer bore the need to stab Sammy in the throat (though the man could still rile him with his patented bitch stares). He seemed to also retain some of the freedom that he had gained in becoming a demon. He no longer felt the constant weight of his life hanging on his shoulders. He could finally breathe for the first time in his life, and he wanted to enjoy that every once in a while. 

Sam had been gone around ten minutes when Cas decided to venture into the kitchen, sitting down beside Dean, who had taken to reading a Vonnegut novel while he sipped his coffee. They sat there for a moment before Dean sighed, rolling his damned shoulders again (he was beginning to think he slept wrong), looking just over the edge of his book to meet Cas’s gaze. The angel wore a soft look in his eyes, almost as if he was concerned.

“Yeah, Cas?” Dean didn’t elaborate, knowing the angel would understand him. He always seemed to when even Dean didn’t understand himself.

“How are you today, Dean? I overheard your conversation with Sam.” Cas understood how to push just the right amount to get Dean talking. Too little and Dean would break off in a jest, too much and he would just shut down completely. Dean set his book down, feeling a frown cross his lips as he realized his mug was empty. “I was unsure if you would welcome company this morning.”

“Yeah Cas, I’m fine.” Dean looked back to his empty mug where precious dark roast should be, standing to get himself a refill. He set the cup down on the counter and reached his right hand over his left shoulder, rubbing at the aggravating area that just wouldn’t quit. He noticed Cas had stood and was eyeing his shoulder with clear concern now. “I’m fine. I just think I slept wrong.”

Cas shook his head and Dean forgot his coffee as he turned to face Cas directly. “While I am still uncertain how much of you remains a demon, I do not believe that you could incur pain due to improper sleeping techniques.” A light lit his eyes suddenly, and he almost unnerved Dean in that moment in his intensity. “You are also feeling irritable this morning.” Cas didn’t exactly phrase it as a question, but Dean still felt the need to speak up.

“I mean, not really. Sam just… set me off.” Dean winced at the tugging he felt in his chest. He was starting to regret biting his brother’s head off. He saw the knowing look in Cas’s eyes and he sighed as he rolled his shoulders another damn time. “Ok, maybe I’m irritable. So, sue me.” He wanted to come off abrasive, to get Cas to leave him be, but he wasn’t feeling it.

A clarity flashed in Cas’s eyes that almost had Dean spooked. “Dean, you are a fledgling!” Dean just stood there, feeling the blank look that was plastered on his face deepen, not even attempting to understand what Cas was trying to say. At least Cas knew him well enough to elaborate. “When heaven was first formed, the angels were, for a time, fledglings. We were unaware of how our corporeal bodies worked and what we would be required to do in order to feel comfortable.”

“Cas, seriously man, what the hell are you trying to say?” Dean grabbed his now cooling coffee and sat back down, facing where Cas still stood. “Crayola simple man, this is only my second cup.” He took a sip and waited for Cas to continue as the man came back around to sit across from him.

“You are feeling both emotional and physical discomfort. I believe,” he paused, and Dean could see the wheels turning in Cas’s brain, “you require grooming.” Dean coughed as he choked on his coffee.

“Grooming?” Dean felt his voice crack as he lifted an eyebrow at the suggestion. He had no idea what Cas meant, exactly, but he couldn’t help feeling like there was something forbidden unspoken in Cas’s assertion.

“Yes. When you became a demon, your soul transformed, gaining wings that, while generally noncorporeal in nature, do need to be groomed and tended at times.” Cas had the same spark in his eyes that Sam usually got when he found a particularly interesting case. Dean almost thought it was cute. Almost.

“Cas, buddy, sorry to break it to you, but my wings aren’t real.” He tried to express his confusion as he shrugged that he really didn’t know what Cas was trying to get him to do. It’s not like they were actually feathered appendages sticking out of his back. “Yeah, they’re there, but like as energy, man.”

“You know that you are able to manifest your wings corporeally, don’t you?” Cas actually looked shocked and Dean tried to not show his immediate embarrassment. He hadn’t known that, but then again, it had only been a few months since he had died. He couldn’t be too hard on himself. “At least I assume that you are able. Angels have the ability to do so when necessary, leaving me to assume you would have the same capability.” 

Dean tried to wrap his head around the idea, but it was too much. It seemed like every time he had his new demon situation figured out, something else came up that threw the proverbial wrench at him. “Cas,” Dean started, wincing at the uncertainty that he heard in his voice, “how do I- I don’t even know where to begin with this.”

Cas’s eyes softened as he met Dean’s gaze, who knew he probably looked about a second from running and hiding. “It’s quite simple, I assure you.” Cas stood, walking towards the door of the kitchen. He looked over his shoulder, a quick raise of his eyebrow telling Dean that he needed to follow the angel. 

Dean followed, letting Cas lead to his bedroom. Dean stopped not far into the doorway, feeling confusion wrinkle his features. Cas turned to look back at him, standing next to the bed. 

“What am supposed to do, Cas?” Dean spoke when the angel didn’t offer any instruction.

Cas titled his head, a slight frown on his lips. Dean flinched slightly as Cas rolled his shoulders back and large, dark emerald green wings materialized behind Cas. They shimmered in the soft lighting of his room, looking almost pearlescent when the light hit them just the right way. Dean stared, taking a step forward, feeling the urge to sink his fingers into Cas’s feathers.

“It’s quite simple, as you can see, Dean.” Cas’s voice was soft, no judgment or harshness at Dean’s ineptitude. But Dean still felt overwhelmed and shrugged, containing his desire to touch.

“Easy for you. I don’t even know how to start.”

Cas’s head tilted once again. “Close your eyes.” The words came as almost a demand, but softer.

“Cas, I-”

“Dean. Trust me. Close your eyes.” Dean did as he was instructed, a feeling of apprehension settling into his chest. “Imagine that, as you stretch your shoulders, you are releasing the tension building there.” Dean focused on the sound of Cas’s voice, trying to roll his shoulders as he had earlier, but focusing on the knot he felt there. He tried to imagine it unwinding, loosing and allowing the tension to vanish with it. “That tension becomes your wings, Dean. See them unfurling from between your shoulders, spreading out behind you. Feel you feathers take form and spread to the floor.” Dean tried to visualize his feathers, the weirdest mental imagine he had ever possessed. He felt a tugging in his chest, a strange sensation pulling him backwards. “Let your wings manifest, Dean. Do not fight the pull you feel. They are an extension of your soul, you need to embrace it.” Dean tried to relax and let his soul flow. His lips parted with a gasp as he felt the air hit him, but farther back than before. His eyes snapped open, and he looked to his left, taking in the sight of baby blue feathers. They glistened next to his shoulder, running down as far as the back of his calves. He flexed his shoulder muscles and jumped when he extended the new appendages fully. It was the strangest sensation. Like they were both real and not, both a part of his body, but only an imagined piece.

He looked back to Cas, who seemed just as enraptured in him as he was with himself. “Cas, this is amazing.” He turned slowly, acutely aware of how large they were and how small his room now seemed. He folded his right wing in toward himself, running his fingers gently against the light feathers there. He grimaced as he took in the details, the little broken pieces and grime he saw under closer inspection. “I see what you mean. These things need a good spot wash.” He looked back to Cas, who now has his wings tucked back into his shoulders. “How do I do it?”

Cas’s features became serious. “I have found it easiest to either have a partner help groom them, or to shower them thoroughly on one’s own.” Dean blinked rapidly.

“I don’t think these things are fitting in the shower, Cas.” He thought about it for a moment. “You said ‘partner’? Will you help, Cas?” 

For some reason, the question seemed to make Cas uncomfortable, which Dean didn’t understand in the slightest. “Dean,” Cas began, his voice holding a tone of caution, “most angels only groom those they are… close to. Either fledglings in their care or lovers.” Dean waited for Cas to elaborate, but as always, he stayed silent.

“Why?”

“For fledglings, their innocence lends the ability and need to help them. They are immature and unable to groom themselves.” Cas shifted on his feet, and Dean struggled to not lose himself in the subtle movements of his wings. The color was a gorgeous complement to the angel. “Mature angels, however, tend to groom themselves, as our wings are highly sensitive when they become torn or dirtied.” Dean got the feeling Cas was trying to keep from using certain terms with him, but he just wasn’t getting the message. 

“So, you can just be gentle, right?” It seemed like an innocent enough question but Cas’s eyes widened.

Cas let out a small breath before continuing, a resoluteness in his eyes. “While if done roughly or incorrectly, grooming _can _indeed be painful, that is not what I meant, Dean. Our wings become highly sensitive, which some angels find erotic pleasure in.”

Dean’s mind blanked for a whole 3 seconds. That’s what the angel was trying to tell him. His wings _could be pleasure points_. Jesus. If he knew his body, and of course he did, Dean knew his wings would definitely be a new point of pleasure for him. He thought for a moment before swallowing his pride and lifelong mental hangups.

“Look, Cas. I get what you’re telling me. But I didn’t know until ten minutes ago that even could do this. I need you to help me. If anyone has to touch them, I want it to be you.” Dean knew they were slowly headed down a dangerous road, but the tension was building again in his back and his skin was beginning to itch where his clothes seemed to rub him just the wrong way.

Cas seemed to take in his current state before nodding. His wings vanished from sight, and he pulled his trenchcoat off to lay it on the chair at Dean’s desk. “Before I agree, you should know that you will need to be naked for this, Dean.” Dean felt like Cas had sucker-punched him.

“WHAT?!” Erotic touching, sure. Fine. That’s ok. They were best friends who could handle it. _Naked erotic touching? _Dean thought he might have to draw a line there. 

“You already feel it, don’t you?” Dean looked to Cas, trying to keep his shock and fear off his face. When he didn’t respond, Cas continued. “Your clothing. Does it almost seem as if your skin is on fire? You’ve let this go on for too long, and your soul is reacting to everything in a heightened fashion.” Dean paused to take it in. Cas was just looking out for him. He wasn’t just trying to get him naked. _Probably_. 

“Ok, fine. Totally. We can do this. We’re grown men.” Dean started pulling his shirt off, not even realizing his wings were still there until his shirt hit the floor. “As long as you keep your clothes on. Wait. How did-”

“You wings, while physically here, exist somewhat… between realities.” Dean turned away with a flick of his eyebrow, facing away from Cas as he slid his jeans and briefs down his legs in one motion. He tried to ignore the fact he was now naked in front of Cas. “Lay down on your stomach on the bed.” Dean looked back, a bit of shock on his features. “It will be the most comfortable position for you, Dean.” Cas was back to the soft tone again, and Dean realized he was comforted by it. He laid down on the bed, pulling his pillow underneath his chin.

He tried to relax, which was near impossible once Cas stepped to the edge of the bed. “I can either stand here next to you, or..” Cas paused, allowing Dean time to process. Dean nodded, letting Cas have the opportunity to elaborate. “It seems easier if I were to join you on the bed.”

Dean nodded quickly, trying not to think too much. “Yup.” Jesus, that’s all he could manage? His inner mantra seemed to just keep repeating: _Best friends, not gay at all. _He tucked his head down into the pillow, resting his forehead on his arm. He felt the mattress give as Cas climbed up with him, waiting a moment for Cas to move. When he didn’t, he managed to speak. “Might be easier for you to reach if you-” Nope, not going to use the word _straddle- _“sit across my hips?” He could almost hear Cas nodding.

He wanted to say he was calm and collected, not at all bothered as he felt Cas’s strong legs surround his hips. He told himself that he didn’t even notice the weight of Cas’s ass on his thighs. He definitely didn’t feel Cas’s groin press down into his bare ass, the fabric of his slacks rubbing against his skin, as Cas bent forward to reach for his wings.

The contact however made Dean squirm and Cas pulled back, whispering his name. Dean lifted his head. He swallowed and then decided to just bury any possible thoughts from here out about clothing and skin. He couldn’t take it.

“Cas, get off.” He heard Cas begin to speak, but he didn’t let the angel continued. He could barely breathe. “Off. Now!” He sighed as Cas rolled to the side of the bed. He looked up to find two very confused eyes staring back at him. “It’s like sandpaper.” Cas tilted his head and Dean continued. “Your clothes. I think you need to be naked too.” What was he saying? Oh well, no going back from here. “My skin felt like it was on fire.”

Cas nodded, a look of understanding, concern, and almost shame coming over his face. “I should have thought about that.” He turned, lowering his feet off the bed and quickly stripped down. Dean relaxed back into the mattress as Cas climbed back up, feeling the weight again against his ass and thighs, this time, much softer. He ignored the response his body felt in response to the pressure of Cas’s thighs, ignored the feel of Cas’s cock against his ass, even as Cas leaned forward. 

Until his head slammed down into the pillow in response to Cas’s fingers grazing the base of his left wing, just above where it met his back. He tried to swallow the groan that threatened to force itself out of his throat, clenching his teeth. He felt Cas’s fingers hesitate before beginning to move slowly outwards, gentle as a whisper. This time he let the moan out, all pretense forgotten.

“Dean?” Cas paused again, concern in his tone again. Dean tried to stifle the groan he felt building.

“Good noises, Cas. Please.” He was begging. For fuck’s sake, he was actually begging. “Keep going. Please.” He felt Cas shift his weight, and he was surprised to feel Cas harden against him. His own cock responded in turn, pressed into the sheets.

Cas moved his fingers, splayed wide, soft but quick as he moved across the length of Dean’s wing. Dean lost himself in the sensation, the ecstasy of the touch. He moaned and ground his hips down into the mattress. He didn’t have to ignore the voice anymore, it was silent as pleasure took over his mind. 

Cas paused again, and Dean heard a level of breathlessness as he spoke. “Should I be explaining what I am doing? So that you are able to do this yourself the next time?” Dean wanted to weep.

“Cas, if you don’t shut up and keep touching, so help me-” Dean broke off as he heard a small laugh. He looked over his shoulder and feathers, seeing a playfulness in Cas’s eyes that he almost didn’t recognize. Cas leaned down, bringing his chest close to Dean’s back, and spoke, a feigned innocence in his voice. 

“Are you enjoying yourself, Dean Winchester?” Cas ran his fingers lightly across his right wing, sending an electric shot straight through to his groin. A smile spread generously across Cas’s lips, which almost did more for Dean than any touch of his feathers. _Almost._

Cas leaned back away, shifting to begin work on Dean’s right wing. His fingers moved quickly, though his touch remained whisper-like. Dean nearly wished Cas would be rougher with him. That might help his current predicament. He swore the light touches of Cas’s fingers were doing more to excite and make his skin tingle than anything else. That and the damn tone Cas had taken with him. Who had taught Cas to be sarcastic and sultry? He was at a loss and just let his body melt back into the sheets, letting the pleasure of Cas’s ministrations turn him into a jello-like mess of demon.

Dean found himself writhing once again, but now, both to his shock and amusement, he felt Cas hard against him, his hips moving in rhythm to his fingers. The movements were small, but definitely something surprising for Dean. Where exactly had the naive angel gone who hadn't been comfortable in 'the den of iniquity'? What exactly had changed for the angel? It couldn't possibly be the current circumstances, of that Dean was quite sure. He had never caught a hint of desire from Cas, and now his face was pressed into the pillow, Cas's cock against his ass.

Pushing the errant thoughts from his mind, realizing quickly that Cas was nearly done with his second wing already. He wondered about the lost time, imagining that it couldn't have been but mere moments since they had begun. But his cock argued otherwise, straining against the sheets, reminding Dean just how much he was enjoying the sensation of Cas's adept fingers in his feathers. Dean tried hard to steady his breathing as Cas leaned back, his hands freeing themselves from Dean’s plumage. The once-hunter nearly cried from the loss of the touch, needing to find release from the pressure they had begun to build. They sat in a moment of silence, both men’s breaths coming in ragged, halting patterns. Until Cas finally spoke, his voice huskier than usual as he still sat straddling Dean's hips.

“I believe that should be adequate.” Dean didn’t wait even a second before he pulled his wings back in, somehow not even thinking about the process, but instead causing them to disappear instantly. He rolled quickly underneath Cas’s thighs, nearly knocking the angel off of him. He reached forward, both to steady the angel and to pull him down. Their chests were flush against one another as Dean gripped Cas’s neck on either side, pulling him into a feverish kiss. Cas’s hands were braced on either side of Dean’s shoulders, his mouth open and hungry as he kissed Dean back with a passion that both surprised and spurred the demon forward. 

They broke momentarily, Cas sitting back. His eyes were hungry, but he somehow looked apprehensive. “Dean.” His breath was halting, as was Dean’s, which almost made Dean chuckle, knowing that they were both preternatural beings that didn’t require oxygen. “While I am enjoying myself, I am surprised by your actions. Are you sure-”

“Trust me, Cas. I’m only wondering why we didn’t do this earlier.” Dean pulled Cas back to him, recapturing his lips with a fervor. Cas leaned into it, grinding his hips along Dean’s. Dean groaned at the friction. Why hadn’t they done this before? His mind tried to race, but it was like he was spinning Baby’s wheels in the mud after a downpour of rain. There were some many reasons, all somehow flitting out of his grasp as he tried to find a reason. He ran his hands along Cas’s chest, the hair he found there tickling his fingertips. What did it matter anyway? They were here now, naked and panting, and Dean realized he had never wanted anything more in his life.

Cas pulled back again, eliciting a frustrated groan from Dean. The demon looked up to find heat in the angel’s eyes. “Dean, while we have established that we are both enjoying ourselves, we need to examine our intentions.” Dean wanted to punch something for all the frustration he felt. His brain was already moving as slow as molasses and Cas wanted to have a chat about _feelings_? Really? He settled on a gruff sarcasm that he found familiar, pushing away the urge to cry out in exasperation. 

“Cas, you’re kinda killing the mood.” Dean tried to pull Cas back in, but the angel pulled away. “Really, Cas? Is now the time to talk about our feelings?” 

Cas’s brow creased. “I was not implying that we need discuss relationship status, Dean.” The saltiness of Cas’s tone ricocheted through Dean like a whip of heat. There was a sassy playfulness in Cas's tone that just begged Dean to kiss him again and taste the words on his tongue. “I do, however, believe we should make it known how far we would like this to proceed.” Dean took a moment to process what Cas seemed to mean. He realized what it was that Cas needed to hear, but somehow he found his voice stuck in his throat.

“You mean, do we have sex or not?” Dean couldn’t wrap his head around it, not in the moment. He was completely thrown by what was happening to him. How could Cas be both so deliciously sexy and so clinical at the same time? It was infuriating, in just the right way Dean found.

“Yes, Dean.” Cas paused and looked a bit concerned. Dean knew Cas could probably read the hesitation he felt. He knew it was written clearly on his face. “If you do not wish to-” 

Dean pulled Cas back to him, capturing his lips again in a moment of panic. He wouldn't give Cas a chance to mistake his worries for more than they were. As he pulled away, he rested his forehead against Cas’s. “I want to, Cas. Definitely.” He breathed, trying to work up the ability to acknowledge the problem that was slowing him down. “I’ve just, never, you know...” He pulled back, hoping Cas could understand his hesitation. He had thought about it all in the past, but Dean had to acknowledge that he had never been with another guy before. It seemed like it couldn't be that different, but it still scared him just a little.  
  
Cas nodded, a small but understanding smile playing across his features. “I shall take point then.” Dean almost chuckled at the idiom, both at the double entendre and Cas’s usage of something Sammy and he usually said during hunts. But then the reality of the situation hit him.

“Cas, nothing against ya, but how are you going to take the lead here?” Dean again almost laughed, but he didn’t risk offending the angel in their current position. He didn't know if he would get this chance again.

Cas pressed into Dean, grinding his hips purposefully into Dean’s, their cocks rubbing delightfully into one another. Dean’s head flipped back with a moan, and Cas whispered into Dean’s ear, “Just because I have not performed the acts myself, does not mean I do not know how they are done, Dean.” Cas elicited a gasp from Dean’s lips as he licked the skin below Dean’s ear. “I have been around long enough, and have seen enough to know how to make your toes curl in pleasure.” Dean’s cock hardened at the words. He didn’t know where this version of Cas had come from, but he definitely wasn’t going to complain.

He moaned again as Cas leaned away, taking Dean’s cock in his hand. His hips thrust of their own volition, jerking unevenly. He pressed his eyes closed as he felt Cas’s fingers move, the movement light again, frustratingly so, reminding Dean's skin of the previous actions that had led them here. If any momentum had been lost in their talk, it all came rushing back into Dean. He groaned as Cas moved, trying to shift himself to gain better friction. “Cas, please.” There it was again, he was begging again. He couldn’t even believe himself in that moment, but somehow he couldn’t even feel embarrassed. The strokes of Cas's hand felt too good. He felt Cas release him, and his eyes flew open in that second, shock motivating him to pay attention.

Cas grinned and tossed Dean a pillow, a playful look in his eyes. Dean caught it, moving to place it behind his head, when Cas laughed again. “That is for your ass, not your head, Dean.” Dean hesitated just a moment before he lifted his hips to slide the pillow underneath himself. He silently chuckled at himself for not guessing; he had used many pillows that same way in his life, just from the other side of the exchange. His heart raced when Cas leaned back down, capturing his lips again. 

He felt Cas snake his hand between them, and he found himself holding his breath in anticipation. “Relax, Dean.” Cas’s words were soft and gentle, coaxing him to release the tension he had not realized had begun to take over his body. He lost himself in the pressure of Cas above him, the movement of their hips as the began to move again against one another. He ran his hands down Cas’s back, feeling the muscles ripple under his fingers. 

He almost didn’t register Cas’s movements. His brain was slow to process, but he realized Cas had a finger pressed against his ass just a second before he felt Cas enter him. He sucked in a breath, tension rippling through him again. He fought to override the sensation, forcing himself to relax his muscles around the sudden change. Cas paused above him, but he just nodded, realizing late that his eyes were shut from his concentration. He felt Cas begin to move again, and he blindly pulled him back in for another kiss. He nearly whimpered when Cas pulled away, until he felt Cas take him in his hand again. The angel began to slowly move both hands in unison, slowly massaging him inside and out. 

Any fear he felt flew itself right out of his brain at that moment. He writhed underneath Cas, unabashedly moaning in time with the angel’s movements. He almost didn’t process the fact that he was slowly becoming less tense as the seconds passed. And somehow, in the same way, he began feeling the tension rise in other parts of his body. His fingers gripped the sheets. His toes weren’t quite curled, but they were getting pretty close to it. Dean tried to think long enough to form words, but he only heard pants leaving his lips. About the time Cas pressed a second finger into him, those pants turned back into moaning gasps. 

Dean struggled but found his brain right as Cas began moving his fingers wider within him, stretching muscles he hadn’t even known he had possessed. “Cas. More.” He should have been embarrassed by his monosyllabic state but he couldn’t be. It all just felt too damn good.

He forced his eyes open and saw a smirk on the angel’s lips. “More, Dean? How much more?” Dean shook his head, trying to make Cas understand that words were no longer a viable option. But Cas instead kept his hand moving, his smirk growing wider, his movements slowing to a tease. “You’ll need to speak if I am to understand your needs, Dean.” Dean tossed his head back, trying to blink enough times to clear his head. It didn’t work, of course, not that Dean was sure why he thought it would.

“Cas.” Dean swallowed, forcing his mind to ignore the pleasure ricocheting through him just long enough to get it out. Somehow Cas’s demeanor wasn’t helping either, but he tried to ignore that too. He breathed deep and tried to muster something, anything sexy or coherent. Two words were more than enough, and all he could manage: “Fuck me.” 

Cas withdrew his hands instantly, and Dean shook and gasped at the sudden loss of Cas’s fingers, but it was only for a breath or two. He swore Cas moved faster than humanly possible, lining up their bodies to take Dean’s ass. Cas paused, a moment so short that Dean would have thought he imagined it if not for his painful awareness of Cas’s every motion. A single second seemed to stretch on, and then Cas was pushing into him, his hard cock much wider than his fingers, but Dean didn’t gasp. He didn’t moan. His eyes shifted instantly to black as he felt the most primal side of himself react to a need he never knew he possessed. The sound that left his lips was completely and utterly inhuman. 

From the sounds he heard from his angel's lips, he could tell Cas definitely liked his reaction. Dean forced his head back up to connect his gaze with Cas, whose eyes were a brilliant shade of grace blue. The angel's lips were parted, small gasps ripping through him as he moved his hips roughly against Dean's ass. Dean threw his head back into the bed, letting Cas fuck him right down into the sheets. The moans leaving his throat were proof enough that he had never felt pleasure like this, and he knew some of it was due to feeling completely and totally free.

It wasn't long before he felt Cas's movements become erratic, his hand finding Dean's cock again, stroking him in time with his thrusts. Dean pulled himself into up enough to pull Cas down into a feverish kiss, one that became their undoing. Dean ground his teeth, stifling a sharp cry as he came across their bellies. He rode the orgasm that ripped through him, sparks flying through his vision as Cas quickly followed. The angel threw his head back, crying out loudly, his hips coming to a standstill pressed flush against Dean's ass. A vague recognition that the lighting in the room now seemed off passed through Dean's mind, but he waved it away, not wanting to pull himself out of their moment together.

Dean sighed as his head hit the pillow and he felt Cas pull out of his body. He couldn’t believe what they had just done. Part of him was shocked, trying hard to yell loud enough that he would pay attention to the fear he felt. But the largest part of him wondered how it hadn’t happened yet. They were closer than anyone else in his life, even maybe closer than he and Sam were, if he were being honest with himself. Hell, he was more open and comfortable with Cas than he had ever been with Lisa or Cassie. It was definitely a shock to think he could have had this from the beginning. He could have been fucked right down into the sheets and feeling this good for years now.

Unless… Dean looked over to where Cas sat at the edge of the bed, Dean having missed Cas sitting up and pulling away. The sight of Cas's back to him left him to wonder if Cas even felt the same way. He was almost certain he did. There was no denying the heat and wanting he had seen in Cas’s eyes tonight. But was it just physical for Cas? Had this just been a way to scratch an itch? Dean had to be sure.

Dean began to open his mouth to speak when Cas suddenly stood, grabbing his slacks from the floor. He pulled them on quickly and Dean felt his heart sink into his stomach. There it was. “Cas?” He spoke softly, not wanting to take them where he knew the conversation was going to lead them.

Cas looked up, his eyes guarded. “Dean. I am glad we were able to solve your problem. It might be prudent of us to restrain ourselves next time so that you are able to learn proper grooming on your own.” Cas bent to reach for his belt, his zipper still undone and teasing Dean with the sight of Cas’s dark curls. Dean didn’t let on that Cas was forgetting his underwear, stupidly thinking it might be his only token to take from tonight.

“I get it.” Dean shrugged, best he could at least while he was on his back, and tried to not look torn up. A hunter's training and years of hardship had given him the ability to hide it all far too easily.

Cas looked back at Dean, his fingers freezing as he tried to thread his belt through the loops. “What do you get, Dean?” He seemed almost as frustrated as Dean felt, but the hunter didn’t quite understand why. Cas was the one standing and putting his clothes back on, not Dean. Why did he feel like Cas was agitated with him, too?

“You regret it, right? Got caught up in the moment and all that. I get it.” 

Cas shook his head, his brow furrowing deeper. “No, Dean, I presumed to understand that you would regret it once we finished. You have made it quite clear that you have an affinity toward relationships with women.”

Dean laughed at the statement’s truth. “Yeah, Cas. But I also have ‘an affinity’ for you.” Cas stared him down for a moment before smiling.

“Then where shall tonight leave us, Dean?” The hunter didn’t have an answer. But he did have a bed and was feeling awfully good after everything, so why not push his luck? It's not like anything could happen to take it all away, not now that he knew Cas felt the same.

“Why don’t we just lay here? We can watch tv, talk about it in the morning. That good with you?” He was so nervous, but he knew Cas better. He waited what seemed like years before Cas dropped the belt to the floor. That saucy look was back in his eyes, and he sauntered to the bed. Dean opened his lips to speak as Cas lifted a knee up to the bed, moving to crawl back next to the demon.

And that was when Sammy bust into the room.

His gun was drawn and he looked ready to shoot at a second’s notice, but he stood frozen as he took in the sight before him. Dean knew it was a good one. He was still naked, just barely saving face by a lucky placement on the sheets across his groin, Cas still wearing his slacks but definitely looking like he was ready to take Dean for a ride. Dean noted that thought for later, as that definitely seemed like something to add to his to-do list.

The younger Winchester stood there for what could have only been five full seconds before sighing and saying, in an exasperated tone, “You guys finally decided to fuck and you flew out all the frickin lightbulbs in the bunker? Seriously? Not only is Charlie winning the bet, but now she has to come fix some shit.” Sam groaned as turned to walk away, shouting over his shoulder as he went, “ABOUT FUCKING TIME!” 

Dean couldn’t help it. He burst out laughing. He pulled Cas into him, kissing him hard before grabbing his remote and settling into the bed for a good cuddle. What a night. Wings are real. Charlie actually won a bet. Sam was cool with all.

And best of all, Cas was right there, curled into his side. What a day to be Dean Winchester, indeed.


End file.
